Memories from my mother’s family…

My late mother grew up in Vieux Carre, and used to tell us about hearing the vendors with pushcarts from her window. She would stop by her parents’ room, and her father, getting ready to go to his shoe shop, would give her a nickel, so she could buy an apple or peach from the vendor with the fresh fruit cart. She said Granddad always smiled and told her "shhh” 🤫 when he handed her the nickel—if her siblings woke up, they’d be clamoring for change to buy treats, too.

It was so cool the way she’d describe the vendors, who would sometimes sing songs about their wares. There were Italian vendors who sang about seasoned meats and seasonal fruits,
Creole vendors would sell herbs and spices that my grandmother and great-aunts would use for cooking traditional dishes.

And the seafood mongers, who sold fish, shrimp and scallops. Mom said as she got older she knew how to choose good fish for supper.

Mom said she loved hearing the songs, and occasionally a neighbor would call out to a vendor, asking if they had a specific item, cut of meat, etc. and negotiate a price.